From The Inside
by andshefalls
Summary: Harry's in hiding. From my POV as Head Girl. Different spin on Hr/D story, enjoy. Chs 2-4 - Christmas holidaze.
1. Throw It All Away

DISCLAIMER: Don't own Harry Potter, or wonderful Linkin Park lyrics.  
  
"Take everything from the inside and throw it all away Cuz I swear for the last time I won't trust myself with you"  
  
I don't think I'm supposed to be awake this late. It's definitely past curfew. Draco went out to do the rounds, though, so I'm alone in the tower tonight. Yeah, Draco made Head Boy. That's a long story though; he wasn't first pick (ha ha!), but we've been getting on well, so I shouldn't speak poorly of him.  
  
Wow, sorry, off on a tangent. I'm Hermione Granger, nice to meet you. I'm this year's Head Girl, and am currently very lonely. After a few more nasty incidences involving some poor house elves, it was decided Crookshanks would be better at my parent's home, so there we are. I'm utterly alone.  
  
Wait, I hear a piano. Draco's back from the rounds.  
  
Yes, Draco plays piano. Shocked me too, you bet. He's actually quite good, has beautiful piano hands as well.  
  
It's surprisingly warm in my gorgeous room. You'd be surprised how cold a castle can get at night, but all the candles in my room help. I'm a bit of a candle nut. Anyway. My room is scarlet and gold. Not that I had much of a choice of the colours, but it's just as well. I always did like red. Something sort of sexy about red, eh?  
  
I'm still single. Not that I haven't been kissed, mind you. Just nothing serious, which is fine with me.  
  
Okay, fine. I'm lying. I wish I had that something wonderful. But I don't and there's no use wishing for it, truthfully.  
  
We can see the lake from up here. Being Head Girl or Boy is worth it just for the view. Why am I looking out the window, listening to Draco play piano, feeling sorry for myself instead of catching some much-needed (as Draco reminds me daily) beauty rest?  
  
You tell me.  
  
Well, I'm actually waiting to hear from Harry. Dear Harry who is currently in hiding. It's November, and a month or so ago, Harry was taken away in the night. At least he is with Sirius, which I'm sure makes him very happy. But we miss him. Everyone does, even the professors. Ron and I have received a total of two owls from him, very brief ones at that. We worry about him, of course. He moves around often and quickly. Spies on both sides keep each other informed of Harry-whereabouts and death-eater-whereabouts.  
  
Quite confusing, yes, I know. I know very little about what's actually happening. The only reason I ever was informed was because I was a best friend of Harry's. Sigh. Dear Harry.  
  
He was Head Boy before Draco, did I mention that? He followed in dead dad's footsteps, and made Head Boy. Draco was, of course, second choice, and took over his duties when Harry left.  
  
Anyway. I see Ron every so often. We kind of cling to each other. A lot of "remember when..?" stories are told. I think the others kind of feel sorry for us. A threesome just isn't the same when you're missing someone.  
  
Wow, that came out weird. You know what I mean. Ron and I don't have too much to talk about. Harry and I spent a lot of the past summers together, so we made a lot of memories.  
  
I'm talking as though Harry's dead. God, what a terrible thought. He'll be back any day now! Just a matter of weeks.  
  
Maybe months.  
  
Hell, I don't know. I make myself believe he'll be home before Christmas. But he may not.  
  
Draco said little about it, luckily. I don't think he would've survived me had be been going on about Harry constantly. Draco actually says very little these days. I mean, we talk about school stuff, and we have to hold meetings with prefects and stuff. Some friendly banter, too. Sharing the bathroom can be complicated, but we actually get along all right. He's quieter this year, more withdrawn. He still talks to his Slytherin buddies and such, and his house has dominated the Quidditch field since Harry's departure.   
  
It was weird, getting used to living with him. I used to creep around with my wand, afraid he was around the corner, waiting to hex me. After awhile, it was like...  
  
Whatever. He admitted later that he'd done the same thing, heh.  
  
Right now, we've been planning the Winter Ball. I think Dumbledore is trying to keep a lot of students at school this year. But I've got plans. I wont be here.  
  
Okay, enough of this. I might go fool around on the piano with Draco for a bit.  
  
Wow, that came out funny again.  
  
I can play piano, too. Have I mentioned that? 


	2. Takes So Much Out Of Me

Disclaimer: See first chapter.  
  
"I don't know who to trust no surprise, (Everyone feels so far away from me), Happy thoughts sift through dust and the lies, (Trying not to break but I'm so tired of this deceit), (Every time I try to make myself get back up on my feet), (All I ever think about is this), (All the tiring time between), (And how trying to put my trust in you just takes so much out of me)"  
  
Draco must've just gotten back from his last class when he began pounding on my door. "Wait, Malfoy," I call to him. I'm getting dressed to go for a run around the lake.  
  
"There was another attack, Granger."  
  
I stop searching for my scarf in the closet so I can sit on the edge of my bed. Another? But there had been one just last week! My head spins.  
  
"Granger?"  
  
I get up after collecting myself and open the door. I'm surprised to see Draco looking as distraught as I feel.  
  
"I'm going for a run, Malfoy," I tell him.  
  
"Four Muggles dead," Draco continues as if he hasn't heard.  
  
"If you see my red scarf, put it on my couch, alright?"  
  
"Another six injured, suspected Death Eaters." I notice he's reading from The Daily Prophet. I glare at him, before turning and opening the portrait.  
  
"It's going to snow within the hour, Granger," Draco calls after me. I think he keeps calling me, but I'm not sure.  
  
It's a huge relief to be outside, the cold air clears my head. The lake is almost frozen over as it's the very beginning of December now. Running is something I took up last year, when I noticed a few others doing it. There's no one outside today, of course. It's very cold, and it takes me a few minutes to get warm even in my sweats. There's a little snow on the ground. Draco was right, it does look like we'll be getting more.  
  
A moment later, just as I reach the far side of the lake, I hear someone running up behind me. It's Draco, come to run with me, I suppose, as he's no longer wearing his school robes. He's holding something red in his hand, my scarf. I gratefully wrap it around my neck.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry, Granger-"  
  
"Doesn't matter," I cut him off.  
  
"No, it does. Can we sit?"  
  
There were benches up all around the lake. The first one put in had been in memory of Cedric Diggory, and, as more had been killed, more benches had been put in. Few were students; most were family members. Draco and I sat on one that read: In Loving Memory of Ian and Esmerelda Bones.  
  
We're both breathing hard. Every once and awhile, there's movement under the ice. Must be the squid getting restless.  
  
"Any plans for the holiday, Malfoy?" I venture.  
  
"Nah, yourself?"  
  
"Going home."  
  
After some silence, he asks, "Heard from Potter?"  
  
I give him a sharp look. "Look, Malfoy, give me one reason why I should trust you."  
  
He holds his arms up in surrender. His breathing lets out little puffs of smoke, like his namesake. "You're right, I've given you no reason to." He gets up and starts jogging away from me, back towards the castle. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Screw him anyway. None of his business. Deep down, I know Malfoy isn't the future Dark Lord. Deep down I know he's changed too much the past few years to be taking Death Eater lessons and such.  
  
But there was too much crap the past six years to let it all go in an instant.  
  
When I get back to the tower, I find our Common room empty. I'm playing something on the piano when I hear a clear voice say, "Romeo", our password. Yeah, Draco picked this week. He's holding two mugs of hot chocolate, and is almost smiling.   
  
"Continue, that was nice," he says.  
  
I keep playing a low, stormy piece, one who's name I've forgotten over time. Draco sits down next to me, and adds a light, high-pitched melody.  
  
"You've got a great ear, Malfoy."  
  
"Call me Draco." 


	3. Feels So Far Away From Me

Disclaimer: See first chapter.  
  
"Tension is building inside steadily, (Everyone feels so far away from me), heavy thoughts forcing their way out of me, (Trying not to break but I'm so tired of this deceit), (Every time I try to make myself get back up on my feet), (All I ever think about is this), (All the tiring time between), (And how trying to put my trust in you just takes so much out of me)"  
  
"Well, I think that's the last of that!" Draco sighs loudly as he shuts his folder. Today is the last day of classes before Winter Holiday, and we have just finished planning the last few details of the Winter Ball menu. The house elves will have their hands full.  
  
Sigh.  
  
Ron looked so agitated during our last class (Potions, of all things), that I thought he might explode. He ran outside after dropping his bag, and proceeded to chuck a rather large snowball at me. Well, I wasn't going to leave at that, was I?  
  
It only ended with Ron's begging for mercy. Not that he'd tell you that, though.  
  
"Are you sorry you'll be missing the ball? It seems funny that after all our work, we'll both miss it," I question as I sit on my couch, "Where will you be going, anyway?"  
  
He's seated on his couch, across from mine. His expression darkens as he looks away. "Nowhere. Anywhere but home I suppose."  
  
Before I can reply, there is a familiar tapping on the window. I get up to open it, and Draco turns towards the fire. My owl that I received for my sixteenth birthday, Cytheria, and his eagle owl fly in.  
  
The writing on the scroll Cytheria carries makes my heart skip. Harry! I turn away to go to my dormitory when I'm distracted by a violent movement from Draco.  
  
He has ripped his letter in half, and is feeding it to the fire. I can't read his expression.  
  
"Draco?" Probably the use of his first name makes him look up.  
  
"If I start to trust you, do you think you can trust me?" he questions, almost menacingly.  
  
I don't reply. All I'm thinking is, What the heck just happened?  
  
"Do you, Granger?"  
  
"Yes," I blurt, "Yes."  
  
He looks back to the fire, and then puts his head in his hands. I go to sit next to him. "Malfoy, what happened?"  
  
"It's Draco," he says, looking up, "and it's a bit of a story. Are you prepared?"  
  
"Fine, but if I call you Draco, you've got to call me Hermione."  
  
"Such a mouth-full!" he jokes before his expression grows stormy again.  
  
"My mother is expected a child. I should be gleeful, but I cant help feeling guilty."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Beacause this removes my responsibility to take my position in the Dark Lord's circle. I don't have to be a Death Eater! I don't have to be my father!" His laugh is strangled, as if he's trying not to cry, "But this kid gets those responsibilities. My little sister or brother. They'll get what I went through."  
  
He pauses.  
  
"Well, at least now I won't be expected home for Christmas. Or ever again."  
  
I'm truly speechless, for once in my life. Wouldn't you be?  
  
"So...You never wanted to be the next Dark Lord?" I carefully ask.  
  
He laughs weakly. "I don't know, Granger. Hermione. I'm so tired."  
  
I don't know if he means tired of his life or if he's sleepy. I move anyway so he can lie down, but sit close to his couch.  
  
He stares at the fire, and I stare at Draco.  
  
With some caution, I look at his face. He does look tired, like he hasn't really slept in a few years. He knows what he has been through. His hair is so blonde it's almost white, and I admire the way it falls over his cheek. He's much more handsome than his father, much more attractive than his mother. His eye's aren't the pure grey I thought them to be, but have a little dark blue in them. All the emotions swirling in them remind me of Harry's eyes. Then I remember the letter in my hand.  
  
Before I stop to think about it, I blurt out, "Come home with me for the holidays, Draco."  
  
Maybe it was my desire for Harry to be home. Maybe I wanted to help him. I start to regret my offer when Draco looks up but doesn't say anything.  
  
I'm about to smile and say something like, "Just kidding!", when he answers.  
  
"Okay, Hermione."  
  
Oh, Lord. 


	4. Won't Trust Myself With You

Disclaimer: See first chapter.  
  
"I'll take everything from the inside and throw it all away, Cuz I swear for the last time I won't trust myself with you,   
  
Everything from the inside and just throw it all away, Cuz I swear for the last time I won't trust myself with you, You, You"  
  
I'm so lucky my parents are understanding individuals. Unfortunately, they are also not as dumb as one might expect. I can imagine how a letter like this might go over...  
  
Dear Mum and Dad, Hope you don't mind but I invited a friend to come home for the holidays. We used to hate each other, he called me degrading names, but we have been very friendly of late...I even find him a mite attractive...  
  
Hmm. Right.   
  
With a little explaining, they claimed to understand perfectly, and would welcome Draco. However, I did understand he would be sleeping in the guest room, and we would be taped in?  
  
The tape thing was something I made the mistake of telling them about when I went to camp one year. If you place a tiny bit of tape on the outside of the door, it's impossible to reseal it from the inside of your room, therefore tipping your parents off in the morning.  
  
Oh, well. As if something like that will happen. Draco explained to Dumbledore where he would be staying (if only I could've seen the sparkle in his eye then), and that was that!  
  
Draco was coming home with me for Christmas holidays.  
  
Do you have any idea how weird that sentence is to me?  
  
I haven't told Ron yet (who's staying behind). What he doesn't know won't hurt him.  
  
Oh, and Harry's letter was very nice. He misses everyone and is safe. Doesn't know when he's coming home. I sent him his Christmas gift this morning with Cytheria. I also told him that even though I know it's unlikely, he's welcome to stop by. I mentioned we'd have company. But left out any names.  
  
We'll be leaving tomorrow, and I wonder how Draco will do with all our Muggle ways. Christmas is in a few days, and then we have a whole other week of vacation, as well as New Years.  
  
Again, it's very late. It's too cold to get out of bed, so I'm looking out my window from here. The moon makes the snow look like...well, I'm not sure what it looks like. Icing. An ocean. Heaven. A white winter wonderland.  
  
There's a knock at my door. It can only be one person.  
  
"Draco?"  
  
"Who else?" he replies, opening the door and coming in. He sits on my window seat.  
  
"I don't think you're suppose to be in here."  
  
He smiles. "Technically, I can. Dumbledore thought we'd be doing our darndest to keep as far away from each other as possible, so he left that rule out of the Good Behavior Contract we signed."  
  
That was sneaky of him, I think to myself.  
  
"I would've thought you'd be reading," Draco continues.  
  
"I'm out of good books," I shrug, "Are you all packed?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm nervous though."  
  
"Why?" Wasn't I suppose to be the nervous one?  
  
Draco just shrugs, and leans back. After awhile, I found myself finally growing drowsy. Draco shows no signs of leaving, so I lie back down and burrow under the covers. There's nothing like sleep. Just as I'm leaving the annoying world of consciousness, he speaks.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
I grunt in reply.  
  
"I might fall for you."  
  
"That's nice, Draco."  
  
Bright morning sunlight is even brighter when reflecting off snow; did you know that? The first thing I see when my eyes adjust is golden hair. Draco fell asleep on my window seat. That can't be good.  
  
After wrapping my blanket around myself, I get up and walk over to the window. It's beautiful out, we got more snow, at least a foot more in fact. I give into temptation and brush some hair off Draco's face.  
  
Yes, it's just as soft as it looks.  
  
His eyes flutter open, and I draw my hand away quickly. He smiles a genuine smile, the first I think I've ever seen.  
  
"My mom used to wake me up like that."  
  
Blushing I back away, and start making my bed.  
  
Draco is smirking while he walks to my door. "Cute pajamas, Hermione."  
  
It's then I remember I'm wearing just a big t-shirt that barely covers me. He's out too quickly, and my well-aimed pillow hits a closed door. 


End file.
